


Self-Destruction

by GrilledBeer



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gap Filler, Gen, Mild Language, Nakamaship, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrilledBeer/pseuds/GrilledBeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro had always noticed just how self-destructive Sanji could get. After an enemy attack though, he could not help but called the idiot out on it. One shot, nakamaship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Destruction

They weren’t best friends, not really. In fact they could have been each other’s archenemy if not for the unspoken bond of nakamaship. The cook pissed him off and picked fight with him, and most of the time Zoro just couldn’t resist giving him exactly what he was asking for.

Him being a hopeless womanizer pissed him off, so did him being a jerk and a prissy little shit. But above all, the cook acting habitually self-destructive got on Zoro’s nerves the most.

It started as soon as the idiot got on board. The stupid cook carried a pack of cigarettes on his person everywhere and at all time and Zoro had never seen him stop smoking. It wasn’t because he was bothered by the smoke or anything: the cook took care to never let his habit trouble anybody, least of all the girls. No, just watching him smoke his life away was annoying enough. And Zoro remembered what Chopper said about a smoker’s lungs. Not that he was going to say anything, though.

Then Zoro noticed how he ate. Despite being a cook, lover-boy barely touched anything. He cooked, he served, he waited on them (again, especially on the girls) — but every time he sat down at the table with them, it seemed as if he did it for the sake of politeness alone. True, the cook did not have the same monstrous appetite as his captain or Chopper at a feast, but his own portion was always smaller than the rest and he finished it quietly with a contented look of someone who had done a satisfying work. Zoro wondered if it was a professional humility — how the cook wouldn’t shove his own food down his throat was the same as how Zoro would never boast of his swordsmanship, no matter how proud he felt. Zoro had no idea how he managed to retain all his strength in combat and beat down the opponents with that skinny ass of his, though.

One cloudy afternoon out in the Grand Line, they were attacked head on by a shipful of enemy pirates. It was a routine fight, really. The cook was, predictably, covering for the girls. He was feeding a roundhouse kick to the circle surrounding them when Robin was caught by surprise and thrown overboard. The idiot rushed to the rail and grabbed her hand, leaving his back and Nami wide open. He was about to haul the devil fruit user on board when Nami screamed. Startled and fearing the worst, he turned around, and there was the prick waving a scimitar standing between him and her.

“Oi bastard, if you dare lay a hand on Nami-san I’ll kill you!”

The pirate turned around, and, seeing the cook with one hand bracing on the rail and the other grabbing Robin’s, rushed forward. The cook couldn’t move his legs or he’d lose balance and risk letting Robin fall, but he could have brought a hand up to block or deflect the attack. Being the idiot who treasured his hands above everything else that he was, the scimitar caught him right between the ribs.

Robin belatedly popped out hands and put the pirate down. The cook put one foot on the rail and heaved her up safely, while he himself swooned and ended up in the sea. The sea-witch herself jumped overboard to retrieve him. Had he been aware of this fact, he would have wriggled with joy like an imbecile.

As soon as the last of the enemy pirates were finished off, Chopper in his Heavy Point helped Nami moved the cook up the rope ladder. The idiot’s wet carcass was a sight to behold, and when Chopper removed the dagger, blood gushed out onto the deck planks so heavily that Zoro spent the entire afternoon scuffing.

In the afternoon of the third day after the attack, Zoro was taking a nap by the hatch when he heard it open. Out appeared the stupid cook who had been unconscious until now, dragging his feet and clutching his side. His face was pale and he was shaking.

“Oi, where do you think you are going?” He called out. The idiot merely spared him a glance and moved on to the galley, to cook dinner. Predictable.

Zoro gritted his teeth. He was someone who took good care of and train his body in order to achieve its optimum capacity. It annoyed him but he called the cook out on it anyway. “Idiot. Quit that self-destructive attitude of yours for once and go back to bed.”

That had the desired effect in pissing off the cook. “You’re one to talk, shitty marimo.”

“Hah?”

The zombie of a cook fumbled for a cigarette, found one and lit up. He eyed Zoro with a furious though tired expression. “And how is your torture regime-exercise not self-destructive!?”

It was true that Zoro always got right back to training his body soon after and most of the time during his recovery from a wound, but he matched the cook with equal fury, almost shouting. “Because I know I can handle it and it will only make me stronger!!!” Then he added with a dark smirk. “Unlike you weaklings!”

“Oh. So being conscious about harming yourself justifies it then?”

“No, it’s because I have a goal: to become stronger!”

“Is that everything you know? Because all you can say is getting stronger, stronger, stronger! That’s called being selfish, bastard! You are winding yourself up for your own sake!!!” At some point yell became shout, and the cook was panting.

“Then you are being selfish too by making people worried!” Zoro grabbed the front of his shirt roughly and almost toppled Sanji over. Somehow they ended up sitting down on the deck, backs against the wooden rail. The idiot took a drag from the cigarette. Zoro let out a sigh.

“There are…” The cook began shakily. “There are more important things, you know. Like Nami-san and Robin-chan. And the crew.”

The girls, of course. Zoro was silent before he replied. “I know. But that has nothing to do with how you shorten your lifespan with that.” He nodded to the burning stick.

“But I’m edgy and distracted without one; and am more prone to shoving my foot in your face, besides.”

“Think you can? Keep dreaming, asshole.”

“Look, I’m not quitting smoking.” The cook took another drag and grinned. “Not soon, anyway. But I’ll watch it.” And he threw the stick in his hand into the sea. Zoro stared. As someone who preached others about not wasting food, the cook himself never wasted as much as half a stick of cigarette before.

“Since you’re being caring and all.”

The quip made Zoro’s ears turn red. They were made to fight, to dream, to keep fighting: they didn’t have it in them to express this kind of feeling, least of all to each other. Realizing that he just outed and admitted his concern earlier, he stumbled. “‘Cause you were right …about me being selfish, I mean.”

The idiot looked at him levelly. The corners of his lips started to lift — then turned slack and he drooled. “Nami-swaaan! It felt like I haven’t seen you in forever! Did you miss me? I absolutely miss your angelic presence very much!!!”

From the corner of his eyes, Zoro saw the cook speed off to meet Nami and begin wriggling stupidly, puffing hearts. Zoro let out another sigh and closed his eyes to resume his nap. For a moment, he thought that the cook was going to smile at him, like really, really smile.

Well, that would have been a nice change of routine.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing in the fandom ^0^! I've always loved this pairing, but after Sanji returned to the manga last week I realized I needed to do something to pass the two-week wait. Comments and thoughts are desired and will be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters and One Piece belong to E. Oda & team.


End file.
